


#16: "Fight"

by theskywasblue



Series: 100 days, 100 prompts [86]
Category: Original Work
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Teen Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-11-03 15:03:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10969698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theskywasblue/pseuds/theskywasblue
Summary: He tried to press in closer, but Nate's fists were in the way, keeping them apart.





	#16: "Fight"

**Author's Note:**

> For Kansouame, by request.

“ _Fuck!_

The wrench pinged off the truck’s dented door, and thudded into the grass by the front tire. The wind picked up, whipping Blue’s hair around his face, tearing at the hem of his shirt as he stood there with his shoulders trembling with an equal mix of anger, sadness, and frustration.

“You’re going to leave, aren’t you?”

“Of course I’m going to leave!” Blue spun towards Nate, fists swinging. He grabbed some other tool from the grass and hurled it in the direction of the house, not exactly _at_ Nate, but almost near enough to be a threat. “What else am I supposed to do?”

Nate swallowed down bile. “Were you ever gonna tell me?”

Blue’s shoulders heaved with the force of his sucked-in breaths. Nate thought the grass at his feet might burst into flame. “Of course I wasn’t going to tell you.”

Time seemed to slow, pulling between them like a rubber band ready to snap. Nate saw the whole, yawning expanse of a life without Blue stretched out before him like a bottomless pit, the edge crumbling beneath the soles of his feet.

“I was going to ask you to come with me.”

Nate’s heart seemed to stop. His vocal chords turned to steel, his tongue to lead. Blue picked something else up out of the grass and tossed it onto the truck’s front seat, slammed the door.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Just forget I said anything. Forget all of it.”

Nate couldn’t have forgotten, even if he’d had any intention to try. “Did you mean it?”

“What?”

“Did you mean it.” Nate took a hard breath, emphasized each word, moved in on Blue without clearly thinking about it, getting one hand tangled up in his shirt and then backing them up until Nate’s own back was against the wind and Blue was boxed in on the side of the truck. “Blue, tell me you meant it.”

Blue licked his sun-chapped lips. His eyes shone in the almost-dark, a tear track on his left cheek. “I just want to be happy, Nate. I can’t be happy without you.”

Nate felt like his throat was closing up. “That’s stupid.”

“I’m stupid, I guess.”

Nate must have closed his eyes, because he didn’t see Blue lean in; only felt the tips of their noses bump, and then their mouths were pressed together. Blue tried to press in closer, blut Nate’s fists were in the way, keeping them apart. He made a low, frustrated noise, and kissed Nate harder, almost frantically, until Nate relaxed into it and the world narrowed down to the touch of the wind in their hair, the soft heat of Blue’s mouth, and their matching breaths.

They broke apart, but barely moved, afraid to put any distance back between them in case they couldn’t close the gap again.

“That was -” Nate started, but Blue interrupted him.

“We should go inside.”

The tiny house was like an oven inside, stuffy and reeking of stale smoke. Blue’s bedroom was at the very back. He shut the door once they were inside, and leaned against it like he was trying to keep something out. In the hazy overhead light he looked wild, eyes wide, lips swollen, and his hair in a tangle. Nate felt breathless just looking at him, overwhelmed with possibility.

Blue reached down, grabbed the hem of his shirt with both hands, and pulled it over his head; then he took Nate’s hand, carefully, and pressed it against the soft skin of his belly.

“That’s okay, right?”

Nate leaned in, eager to feel the softness of Blue’s mouth again. “Yeah, it’s okay.”


End file.
